


Whatever you want, whatever you need

by Simply_Fabulous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, fluff with probable angst later on, mention of past usuk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Fabulous/pseuds/Simply_Fabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alfred left, Arthur was broken. Now it's up to Francis to put the pieces back together and help Arthur move on with his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Francis opened the windows and let piercing white sunlight shine into the dark room. Arthur’s bedroom was dusty and messy, bottles of wine, beer and whiskey lay strewn across the floor and furniture as well as empty cartons of take-out food. This wasn’t like Arthur at all. The Arthur that Francis knew was a clean-freak bordering on the obsessive, and he’d never let himself get like this. But then again the Arthur that he knew wouldn’t spend weeks and weeks sulking indoors. He’d changed. He’d changed and it was all his _damn_ ex’s fault. That man had changed his best friend into something he barely even recognised.

Arthur pulled the sheets up over his head and groaned. “Go away.” He moaned.

“No.” Francis said firmly and pulled the sheets off of his friend. “You haven’t left the house in weeks. Some fresh air will do you good.”

“I’m not a dog. And besides, it’s raining outside.” Arthur reached for his sheets.

“Doesn’t matter. Now please, for the love of God, go have a shower and then we’ll try to clean this mess up before we go.”

“What’s the point?” Arthur grumbled.

“Don’t talk like that.” Francis said, ushering Arthur out of bed. “It isn’t the end of the world, Arthur.”

“But I _love_ him. I thought that he’d be the _one_ , but _no._ He had to dump me and go off to America.” Arthur replied.

“Look, if he didn’t love you enough to stay, then he wasn’t the one for you. It’s hard, but that’s love. You have to risk being hurt if you want to get anywhere.”

“But I don’t want to be hurt anymore! Everything reminds me of him, the couch where we used to watch TV together, the bed where we slept, the kitchen where he ate my shitty cooking, everything here makes me think about him and it makes me sick!” Arthur put his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he let out a few quiet sobs. Francis smiled sympathetically and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry. I really am. It must be hard for you, you really did love him a lot. But you can’t just sit there and cry forever, can you. Life goes on and whether or not you like it, you have to move on too.” Francis said. “Go and have a shower. We’ll clean up here and then go to my place and I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast. Does that sound nice?” Arthur smiled weakly and nodded before leaving for the bathroom.

Once Arthur was gone, Francis went to get some cleaning supplies and got to work. He began picking up the bottles and empty cartons and threw them into a black bin bag, thinking about how Arthur had gotten into this situation. _I’d told him that he was bad news._ He thought to himself as he threw things away. _I knew that he’d break his heart, but he didn’t listen to me, did he?_ Francis continued to throw rubbish away. It was true that he’d known that Arthur’s relationship wouldn’t last. He hadn’t liked Arthur’s ex from first sight. He’d been obnoxious, rude, loud and just plain annoying. In his opinion, Arthur was a hundred times better off without him.

Francis’s train of thought was stopped by Arthur returning from the shower in a bathrobe.

“Are you feeling any better?” Francis asked.”

“A little, I guess.” Arthur replied. “Let me just put some clothes on and then I’ll help you clean up.”

“Alright.” Said Francis. He watched as Arthur walked over to the wardrobe, took off this bathroom and began dressing. Since the two had been best friends since boarding school, they were surprisingly comfortable seeing each other naked. Francis looked over and saw Arthur’s delicate, pale skin. He still looked good despite barely having got out of bed in the past few weeks. He was still fairly muscular, not too tall, but not too short either, and his dark blonde hair stuck up in all directions, the way it always did when he blow-dried it after a long shower. Maybe he’d had a little crush on his best friend for a while, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he’d always be there to support him, now would it?

Once Arthur was ready, he helped Francis clean up, and it wasn’t long before the entire apartment was clean, dusted and looking beautiful.

“Thanks for helping.” Arthur said as he threw the last bag into the garbage bin outside the apartment complex. It was raining hard, but the fresh air _was_ nice.

“Shall we get going?” Francis said, opening out his umbrella.

“Let’s.” Arthur replied. They walked to Francis’s apartment under the umbrella. The busy streets of London were full of life despite the cold, damp rain, but Francis wouldn’t have noticed if they all vanished in an instant. The only thing that mattered was the fact that Arthur had come outside. Arthur had left his apartment after weeks and weeks of being holed up in there. This was going to be a good thing, he knew it. From this point on, he could work on helping Arthur get back to his usual self.

While they walked, Francis was very careful not to talk about any topics which could trigger Arthur to think about _him._ He talked about TV shows but not the ones they watched together, he talked about books, but not the ones his ex liked to read. It was like walking through a minefield, but he was glad once they finally got to his apartment.

He opened the door and went straight to the kitchen, his favourite place in the house. Arthur took a seat at the table in the corner, knowing that it was best for him to stay as far away from the cooking as possible. Francis began making crepes, humming to himself while he cooked.

“That smells delicious.” Arthur said. Francis smiled. A few minutes later, he placed two plates on the table. Crepes served with fresh cream, honey and berries. Not exactly a complex dish for him, but delicious all the same. And Arthur loved them, which made them all the better.

“Bon appetit.” He said and watched as the man dug in.

“They’re fantastic.” Arthur said, smiling a little. It wasn’t as full of life as his old smile, but it was something, at least.

“I’m glad you like them. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile.” Francis replied. Arthur nodded, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“So what shall we do after this?” Francis said, changing the subject while Arthur continued demolishing his breakfast.

“I don’t know. Is there anything you had in mind?” Arthur asked. _I’d do anything for you._ Francis thought. _I’d do anything on the world, just to make you smile like you used to._

“We can do whatever you want.” Francis replied. “Whatever you need to make you feel better right now.” He smiled and dug into his breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Arthur had finished his breakfast, he headed over to the sink and began washing his dishes.

“Oh no, you don’t need to do that!” Francis exclaimed, jumping to his feet and picking up his dishes. He hurried over to the sink. “It\s okay. I can do it.”

“No, you’ve already cooked for me. You should let me do this, at least.” Arthur said as he took the dishes from Francis’ hands, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Outside, the rain was falling quite heavily, which meant that Francis’ idea for a walk had been thrown out the window. He needed to think up of a new activity soon, because he just needed to keep Arthur busy for the next few days. If he kept him busy enough, then he wouldn’t be thinking about his godforsaken ex-boyfriend. Once Arthur figured out that he could live a perfectly happy life without that man, all would be well. He just needed to do his best to help out, and to do that, he needed an activity.

“Any ideas about what you want to do now?” Francis asked politely.

“Please,” Arthur said simply. “I don’t want to be a bother. Just go about your daily business and I’ll figure something out.” Francis thought for a moment, trying to work out what the best thing for Arthur was right now. It felt odd, looking after him like this, but it was something that needed to be done.

“Arthur, I’m here to help you, not push you off to the side.” Francis said. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll find a way to make it happen. I’m not going to just let you go back to wallowing over him. You need to keep yourself busy.”

“But what’s the point anymore?” Arthur sighed.

“Arthur! Don’t say that! He doesn’t define you, so why are you letting him get in the way of your life?”

“It’s just hard.” Arthur said. “I was so used to him being there for me but now he isn’t, and I don’t know what to do with myself.” Francis smiled softly and put a consoling hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“It’s not easy. I understand.” He said. “But I promise that things will get better eventually.”

“They won’t.” Arthur said.

“They will.” Francis replied. “Look, you must be really behind on writing your articles. How about I lend you my laptop and you can try to get some work done? I don’t want you to end up losing your job or something.” Arthur worked as a journalist, writing a few opinion pieces and reviews for a small magazine. As long as Francis had known him, Arthur had loved writing. When he’d first got the job. Arthur had been so excited. Francis remembered how happy Arthur had been when he’d called to give him the news. Alfred had been less than amused, however. All Alfred had told him was that he thought that journalism wasn’t very well paying career.

Francis shook his head. Thinking about Alfred only served to make him angrier. How in the world could someone as amazing as Arthur had ended up with a asshole like that? Alfred had never deserved Arthur, and this breakup just proved it. Arthur needed someone better. Someone who knew him and he could take care of him. And Francis wanted to be that person. He knew that he was more than capable of taking care of Arthur, and he would treat him so much better than how Alfred treated him. He could be a much better boyfriend, but sadly, that wasn’t what Arthur needed right now. Arthur needed a reliable friend right now, not a new boyfriend. When the time came, maybe he would make a move and finally get to the next level, but right now, all Francis wanted was Arthur’s happiness. And if that meant that he had to stay just friends, he would do that.

So Francis then handed Arthur his laptop, and busied himself cleaning his apartment. He had called the restaurant where he worked and asked them if he could switch shifts so that he could spend the day taking care of Arthur. He still had to go in and help with the dinner rush, it was always busy on Saturday nights, but other than that, he was free until the evening. He went about cleaning, while he heard the tapping of keys on a keyboard coming from the kitchen. Arthur was getting into his work again, which was nice. He wondered if the restaurant would let Arthur sit inside and work while Francis helped with the prep. He didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. Hell, maybe Arthur could even get in touch with some food critics for the owner, and then the restaurant could get some press.

He decided, once he’d finished cleaning, to go back and check up on Arthur. Back in the kitchen, Arthur was no longer typing, instead he was scrolling though Facebook slowly. Francis crept closer carefully, and then leant over to get a peek at what he was doing.

“Arthur!” He exclaimed, and Arthur quickly closed the tab, turning to face Francis. He had just been scrolling through pictures of Alfred’s current vacation in America. From what Francis had seen, there had been a lot of pictures of him with a young Japanese man who neither of them had ever seen before. _He can’t have found a new boyfriend already_. Francis thought. _It hasn’t even been a month_.

“He changed his status today.” Arthur said, he looked paler and more tired than before. It was almost like looking at the screen had somehow ages him a few years. “He’s in a relationship now. Francis said nothing, and just pulled Arthur into a hug. They remained in a silent embrace in the kitchen for a few minutes.

“He isn’t worth your time.” Francis said and closed the screen. “You deserve someone much better.”

“But I don’t want someone better, I want him.” Arthur replied. Francis looked out the window. The rain was still falling too heavily, and staring at a computer screen wasn’t going to help Arthur at all. He needed to come up with something else, because his current plan wasn’t worked. It seemed like Arthur was trying to dig up past things about Alfred. Maybe looking back at their few, happier days made Arthur feel better. Or, in a more likely scenario, Arthur just wasn’t going to let go of Alfred so easily. That would take a little more work to fix.

But that didn’t matter, Francis decided while he hugged the distraught Arthur. Whatever it took, he would do it. He would make Arthur whole again, no matter what it took, no matter how long it took. Francis loved him, and because of that, it was Francis’ self-sworn duty to bring back the light in the Brit’s eyes. Those eyes meant a lot to him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let them fade away. He was here for Arthur.


	3. Chapter 3

 While Francis turned the kettle on, Arthur laid his head down on the kitchen table and let out a groan. Even though he hadn’t done very much throughout the day, he was already starting to feel exhausted. And it hadn’t helped that when he had logged in to Facebook, all he had seen had been photographs of Alfred in America with his new boyfriend. It made his chest pain, how perfectly happy Alfred looked without him. It was like all the years that they had spent together didn’t mean a thing. He thought that he had loved Alfred, he really had. He’d put so much of himself into that relationship, he had really hoped that it would last forever. Sadly, it didn’t, nothing did. And now he was stuck with nothing but the memories.

“Here.” Francis said, placing a cup of tea in front of him. “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.” Arthur sat up and took the cup of tea into his hands. He held it tightly, the warmth coming from his cup soothing him slightly.

“Thanks.” Arthur looked down at his cup.

“It’s Earl Grey, your favourite.” Francis took a seat across the table from Arthur, bringing a mug of freshly brewed coffee with him. He could see that Arthur was still thinking about Alfred. He always was, and it was only going to make things worse.

“Look,” Francis began. “I know that it’s hard, but you have to stop thinking about him. The more you do, the harder it’s going to be for you to move on.”

Arthur sighed. “But everything just reminds me of him so much. I don’t know what to do.” He took a sip of his tea. It was delicious and warm and tasted heavenly. Despite Francis’ faults, he really could make a good cup of tea.

“It’ll take time, but I promise you that one day, you’ll look back at this and wonder why the hell you were so caught up about in the first place.” Francis drank some coffee. “Hey, it’s stopped raining, How about we go to the bookshop?” He suggested. Arthur had always loved buying books, and he knew that taking Arthur to see some books wouldn’t magically cure his feelings of despair, but he hoped that it would at least bring a smile to Arthur’s face. Maybe even a few good books would distract him from the constant thoughts of Alfred that Francis knew were plaguing his mind.

“No thanks.” Arthur replied, his eyes downcast.

“Are you sure?” Francis asked, surprised. He’d never known Arthur to turn down a trip which could result in books, it just wasn’t natural to him.

“I’m fine.” Arthur said. “Trust me. I don’t need any more books. I think I’d rather just go back to bed.” Now it was clear as day that something was wrong. Before the breakup, Arthur didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘too many books’. The remains of his past relationship was changing Arthur, and Francis didn’t like it one bit. He wanted his happy, joyful Arthur back, not the depressed remains of him that sat in front of him.

“Arthur, you shouldn’t go back to sleep. It’s not even noon yet.” Francis said, shaking his head. “It’s not good for you.” Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Francis, I appreciate what you’re doing, but I can take care of myself.” He said acidly. “I don’t need you telling me when I should go to bed or not.” Francis looked slightly taken aback. Almost instantly after the words fell from his mouth, Arthur felt a wave of regret. Francis had been kind enough to clean up after him, and take him to his apartment just to help him. He didn’t need to be so rude.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m just not in the best place right now.” Francis smiled reassuringly and put a hand on Arthur’s arm.

“No, it’s okay.” Francis said soothingly. “I shouldn’t be telling you what to do anyways.”

“Really, I’m sorry.” Arthur said, looking up with a weak smile.

“Please, don’t worry about it.” Francis said. He caught sight of the clock. He should have started heading to work ten minutes ago. Although he probably wasn’t going to lose his job, it would make the fellow chefs at the restaurant a little bit angry. “Look, I have to go to work right now, but I promise that we’ll do something fun together when we get home.” He got up and went to get changed as quickly as possible. Once he returned to the kitchen, he looked back at Arthur. He was still lying with his head on the table. Francis bit his lip. He wished that he could call in sick today, but Saturdays were the restaurant’s busiest days. If he called in sick when he really wasn’t, then he really would get fired.

“I’m going to leave now.” Francis said, halfway towards the front door. “Is there anything else you want, anything you need?”

“No.” Replied Arthur. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“Alright then.” Francis said, at the door. “If you need anything, please call me.”

“Okay.” Arthur said without raising his head from the table. Before leaving, Francis looked back. Arthur was really worrying him. He knew that if he left Arthur in his apartment alone, that in the best case scenario, he would sleep all day. However, there was also a part of him which was worried that something worse would happen. What if he came back, and Arthur had done something to himself? Francis would never be able to forgive himself if Arthur did something to get himself injured. With a sigh he pulled out his phone as he turned to lock his door.

“Hey, Gilbert.” Francis called Gilbert up. Gilbert had been one of his best friends since childhood, and he knew that he could trust him with anything. “Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Sure, let’s hear it.” Gilbert replied.

“Well, it’s about Arthur.” Francis began. He finished locking the door and began to head to the parking lot.

“Arthur? How is he doing?” Gilbert asked. He wasn’t blind, everyone had noticed how much Arthur had changed after his breakup with Alfred. People were worried about him, but it was hard to do anything to help when Arthur refused to even set foot outside his apartment.

“He’s…” Francis tried to think of the right word. “He’s probably not doing too well right now, I don’t know. I think he’s trying to put on a brave face right now. I just hope that he starts feeling better soon.”

“Ooh, and then you’re going to make your move on him?” Gilbert said. Francis rolled his eyes.

“No.” He said flatly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of him like that. Once he gets better, Ill decide what I want to do about our relationship.”

“Well you should hurry up, otherwise when you first take him out to dinner you’ll be using your senior citizen’s discount.” Gilbert joked. Francis was not amused.

“Look, I was about to ask you do something for me.” He quickly changed the course of the conversation before Gilbert could get another chance to insult him.

“Alright, alright. What do you want me do?”

“I just want you to go over to my apartment. Arthur’s there.” Francis said. “Arthur’s there, you probably don’t have to do anything for him. I just want you to make sure that he’s okay, and that he doesn’t do anything stupid.

“So you just want me to sit there?”

“Pretty much. Just tell him your cable was out and I said that you could watch TV at my place, or that you don’t have any power and you need to use the internet.”

“Okay, that’s not a problem. How soon do you want me there?” Gilbert asked.

“I’m on my way to work right now.” Francis said he reached his car. “So try and get there as soon as you possibly can, okay?”

“Okay.” Gilbert replied.

“And if anything goes wrong, call the restaurant’s number and ask for me, please. I won’t be able to use my cellphone.”

“Okay.”

“And please, take care of him if something does happen, will you?”

“Of course I will.” Gilbert said with a touch of boredom in his voice. “Bye.”

“Oh yeah! And if you could, can you stop by the bakery and grab some chocolate éclairs? He really loves them.”

“Alright.” Gilbert said tersely. “Is there anything else I need to know, or is that it.”

“And don’t mention Alfred or his new boyfriend, okay?”

“Of course I won’t! Now can I please go?”

“Fine, fine.” Francis said. “Watch over him well, okay?”

“Goodbye.” Gilbert said shortly.

“Bye.” Francis said, and Gilbert hung up the phone. He sighed, worried. It was going to be hard to get through work today.

It wasn’t long before Gilbert finally arrived at Francis’ apartment. He took the spare key which Francis had given him and went in. He found Arthur lying curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Gilbert sighed. He’d been planning to sit there and watch TV. Checking the time, he figured that Francis probably hadn’t gotten to work yet. He sent a quick text to him.

**TO FRANCIS: Arthur looks ok. He’s asleep on the couch.  
FRANCIS: OK please tell me if anything happens.**

Gilbert went to the fridge and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of beer and took a drink. It may have only been ten in the morning, but that didn’t matter. He was between jobs at the moment, so it really didn’t make a difference what time of the day he started drinking. He took his beer and went over to the kitchen table, opening Francis’ laptop. Arthur stirred and murmured something incoherent in his sleep. He tossed and turned before going back to sleep. 

The apartment remained silent for a few more moments before Gilbert began hearing Arthur murmuring in his sleep better.

“Al – Alfred.” Arthur moaned. “Nuh – no come back, please.” Gilbert’s eyes widened. He was sure that that wasn’t normal. _Should I call Francis?_ He thought. _No, it’s better that I don’t. If I tell him, he’ll just get too worried about it anyways._ Instead of calling Francis, he went over to Arthur and gently shook him by the shoulder.

“Arthur?” He said. “Wake up.” Arthur groaned and rolled over.

“Alfred…” He moaned again. Gilbert shook his gently again.

“Wake up Arthur.” He said again, louder this time. It worked, to a point. Arthur opened his eyes, and then they widened as he realized that the person standing over him was not the owner of the apartment.

“Gilbert?” He said, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”

“Francis has beer.” Gilbert pointed towards the bottle of beer standing by the laptop. “But more importantly, how are you?”

“I’m fine.” Arthur replied. “I’ll get through it.” Gilbert smiled softly. Francis was right. Arthur really wasn’t the same as he was. He was downcast and depressed, and Gilbert didn’t like that.

“Look, you don’t need him.”

“I’ve probably heard that about fifty times by now.” Arthur replied shortly.

“That’s because it’s true.” Gilbert replied. “He was a bit of a dick.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said with a small smile on his face. Gilbert gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Just hold on, buddy. Everything will work out in the end.” He said. “Now how about we get some pizza for lunch?”

“No thanks, I’m not really in the mood for pizza.” He replied. Alfred had loved pizza. He remembered how he used to tease Alfred for being able to eat a whole one. Usually Alfred would sit in front of the TV and eat one while Arthur occasionally picked toppings off the slices. He didn’t want to be reminded of all the cute and happy things they used to do together.

“Hmm… How about fish and chips, then?” Gilbert said, deciding that it was probably better to go along with Arthur’s favourite food if he was supposed to be taking care of him. “And some beer?”

“That sounds better.” Arthur said.

“I’ll call up the place and see if I can get them to deliver.” Gilbert said. He guessed that he wasn’t supposed to leave the apartment. It didn’t look like Arthur was about to do anything if he did leave for five minutes to get some food, but he guessed that he should probably just make sure. And also, if Francis found out, he would be very pissed off.  So he called, and after being laughed at by the chip shop’s owner for a good few minutes, the owner finally decided to send one of his staff out to deliver as a special order.

It didn’t take too long for the food to arrive, but when it did, Gilbert thanked the temporary delivery boy profusely and made sure to give him a little tip.

“Thanks so much.” He said again as he closed the door. He placed the food, wrapped in slightly greasy paper straight onto the coffee table in front of the television and grabbed a few more bottles of beer from the fridge. He handed a bottle over to Arthur before sitting down and turning the TV on. He flicked through the channels aimlessly, trying to find something good to watch.

Arthur unwrapped the paper and took a chip. As soon as he bit into it, he felt the tiniest bit better. They were just how he liked them, with plenty of salt and vinegar. He took a sip of beer. Alfred had never really let him eat fish and chips while they were dating. He’d hated the smell of vinegar, and to Arthur, there wasn’t any point of having fish and chips if you weren’t going to have them with vinegar on top. _But Alfred isn’t here anymore_. He remembered Francis saying sometime ago. He could eat fish and chips to his heart’s content again, and he guessed that was a good thing.

“What do you want to watch?” Gilbert asked, still lazily flicking through the channels. Daytime television was awful. They had a choice between crappy talk shows, cooking shows or low-budget soaps.

“Anything. I don’t care.” Arthur said. Eventually they settled on watching a boring soap which they guessed would probably be more appealing after they had drank a bit more.

~ ~ ~

As it turned out, they drank more than a bit. The soap was still terrible, but after a couple of beers each, they weren’t paying very much attention to the show anymore. The alcohol in Arthur’s body coursed through his veins, filling him with a kind of warmth and energy that he hadn’t felt in weeks. He laughed loudly and at all of Gilbert’s unfunny jokes, just glad to be able to laugh again.

“Oh shit.” Gilbert said as he opened the fridge to look for more beers. “I think we drank all Francis’ beer.”

“The little frog’s going to be pissed when he finds out.” Arthur laughed, emptying his bottle. “So does that mean we can’t drink anymore?”

“Of course not!” Gilbert said, producing a bottle of wine. He hoped Francis wouldn’t mind, the bottle didn’t look _too_ expensive, and besides, Arthur was enjoying himself. Wasn’t that all that mattered? He grabbed two glasses and brought the bottle over. He poured out two generous glasses and passed one to Arthur.

“So.” Gilbert began, turning to face Arthur.

“So?” Arthur replied, taking a long sip of wine.

“Francis.”

“What about him?”

“What the hell is going on between you two?” Gilbert asked blunty.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, are you serious?” Gilbert shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“What?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“I mean, it’s totally obvious. How can you not know?” Gilbert exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur demanded.

“Well you know --” Gilbert began before he remembered just who he was talking to. “Oh shit, I probably shouldn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Arthur demanded again, more insistent this time. He hated being left in the dark. Whether it was about whatever the hell Gilbert was going on with, or what Alfred had been doing behind his back, he hated not knowing.

“Never mind.” Gilbert said quickly. “It’s not important. Say, did you catch that Arsenal match that was on last Saturday?” He tried to change the subject, but Arthur wasn’t giving up. He snatched the wine glass from Gilbert’s hand and looked up at him childishly.

“If you want this back, you’re going to have to tell me what you were talking about before.” Arthur’s words were starting to slur now. He’d already emptied his glass of wine.

“Don’t be stupid.” Gilbert said and reached for the bottle, but Arthur had already grabbed it. He watched as Arthur took a long drink from it, now regretting his decision to let Arthur drink.

“C’mon Gil…” Arthur pouted.” Please? I promise I won’t tell anyone else! Just please, tell me, okay?”

Gilbert sighed. “Fine. But I want you to swear that you won’t tell anyone. Like, if you did, I would get killed, and you don’t want that to happen, don’t you.” Arthur shook his head furiously.

“No, not at all.” He placed a fist on his chest and said in a proud but slurred voice. “I swear on Her Majesty’s throne herself that I won’t tell. Now please for the love of God, tell me what you were talking about.”

“Okay.” Gilbert said, and leaned closer to whisper. “Francis, well… he’s a little bit…”

“A little bit what?” Arthur whispered back excitedly.

“Uh…” Gilbert tried to think of the best way to word it. “A little bit… kind of… in love with you.” Arthur’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Francis has a thing for you.” Gilbert said. “Like a really really big thing. He’s been in love with you since high school. How come you’ve never noticed?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur furrowed his brow. He tried to think back. He tried to remember what on earth Francis had done which could have hinted at the fact that he loved him, but was drawing up with a blank. He’d never been very good at interpreting people’s feelings. When he and Alfred had started dating, Alfred had to straightforwardly tell him he loved him. “He really loves me?”

“Yeah.” Gilbert said. “He’s crazy for you.” Arthur took another sip of wine straight from the bottle.

“Fuck.” He said.

“Excuse me?”

“I feel bad. He’s been in love with me for that long and I didn’t realize?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Gilbert said. “Let’s just have another drink and worry about it later, okay?” He got up and turned on the radio. “How about we just have some fun instead?”

~ ~ ~

Francis managed to get away from work early by pretending he had a headache, so at two in the afternoon, he was heading home. The first thing that he did after leaving was check his phone. He’d gotten no new messages from Gilbert, and he hadn’t been called at work, either. So Arthur was probably okay. He let out a sigh of relief and began driving home.

Once he arrived, he noticed that the door was unlocked. Gilbert must have forgotten to lock it after he’d arrived, he’d have to yell at him about that later. Inside the apartment, loud rock music was playing accompanied by shouting.

“What the hell?” Francis said. He walked in on Gilbert and Arthur, half dressed and playing the air guitar, surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol. When he turned the music off, it still took a few minutes for them to realize that the song had stopped playing. “How much have you two drunk?”

“I dunno.” Gilbert said and laughed.

“Probably a lot.” Arthur said with a laugh, holding a bottle of whiskey. Francis shook his head.

“Gilbert, I told you to take care of Arthur, not get him absolutely wasted!” Francis yelled. He began picking up the bottles lying around the floor. “Now will you put your shirt on and help me clean up?”

“C’mon Francis, don’t be such a buzzkill.” Gilbert said, turning the music back on.

“Yeah, Francis.” Arthur walked over to him. “Don’t be such a wet blanket.”

“Arthur, you’re drunk.” Francis said, prising the bottle of whiskey from his hands.

“So what?” Arthur leaned in closer. “Oh yeah, and by the way, Gilbert told me about your little secret.” Francis’ body tensed.

“What do you mean?” Francis asked. Arthur leaned even closer, until his lips were right next to Francis’ lips and spoke in a soft whisper.

“That you, you know, have a little thing for me.” Arthur smirked. Francis’ nose twitched. From this close, he stunk of alcohol. He was absolutely and completely hammered. Francis highly doubted that Arthur would be able to remember anything that happened in the morning. Arthur, meanwhile, slid his hands around Francis’ waist and pulled him closer still.

“What are you doing?” Francis said in a harsh whisper. He looked over to Gilbert, but he was too absorbed in his air guitar solo to care about that in particular.

“You have a thing for me.” Arthur whispered in an attempt to be seductive. “So why don’t we have a little fun?”

“Have a little fun?” Francis asked, even though he didn’t need clarification. It was true that having Arthur wrapping himself around his waist like this was fantastic, but this was wrong in a way. It didn’t matter if Arthur wanted this, right? He was drunk and not in the best emotional state. It was wrong on all counts to take advantage of him.

But still, Arthur was beautiful like this, and maybe it would be good for him to sleep with someone else. Arthur was now trailing kisses up and down his neck. Irresistible. He couldn’t hold out for much longer without reacting in some way. What the hell was he supposed to do?

“So what do you say?” Arthur said drunkenly. “How about we get rid of Gilbert and then head to bed?”

Francis took a deep breath and made his choice.


	4. Chapter 4

Francis took a deep breath and made his choice.

“Arthur.” He began. It was hard. Every fibre of his being wanted to say yes. He wanted to feel the heat of Arthur’s skin against his own, to love Arthur even though he knew that he probably wasn’t going to get loved back. He wanted this. He had wanted this since he’d first seen Arthur, but at the same time, there was a tiny part of him that was telling him he was wrong. He shouldn’t be taking advantage of Arthur at a time like this, when he really needed help. Regardless of his feelings, he was supposed to be Arthur’s best friend. And best friends didn’t try to take advantage of each other while drunk. But still, it was hard to say no. And besides, maybe it would be good for Arthur to just have sex with someone else. Maybe rebounding would help him to get out of this deep funk he was in.

“Sure.” Francis said, putting a hand on Arthur’s side. “We can just leave him on the couch if you like, and go to the bedroom.” Arthur smirked. He leaned in a placed another kiss of Francis’ neck. Francis couldn’t help but smile as he led Arthur to the bedroom. Although it wasn’t the most moral choice ever, he was going to go ahead with it anyways.

Once in the bedroom, Francis quickly closed the door behind them. The moment the door was closed, Arthur went straight to it. Without hesitation, he began unbuttoning Francis’ shirt. He began running his hands slowly up and down Francis’ chest. Francis almost lost his breath. He had just been expecting a drunken fuck, not for Arthur to get so into it. He wasn’t complaining though. Arthur was already shirtless, so Francis didn’t have to worry about that much clothing. Instead, he busied himself by fiddling with Arthur’s belt buckle. He undid it and took it off, Arthur then pressed himself closer to Francis and resumed kissing him, trailing kisses from his lips and his jaw down to his shoulder. The two’s bodies were entwined, pressed up against the door.

“Arthur…” Francis sighed. This felt amazing. He didn’t think that it could feel this good, but it was amazing. Arthur’s body so close to his felt perfect. It was almost like they were meant to be like this, like they were somehow crafted for each other. He kissed Arthur. He kissed him back passionately. If this was only going to happen once, he definitely wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. Everything he did was passionate. When they made love, Francis poured much passion into it as he could. He relished every time Arthur cried out or moaned, even though once or twice he called out Alfred’s name.

When it was all over, Francis and Arthur laid down in bed, exhausted. Francis turned to put an arm around Arthur, only to find that he was now fast asleep, snoring heavily. Francis let out a small chuckle. So maybe it hadn’t been absolutely perfect. But he had definitely enjoyed every minute of it. With a smile, he place a soft kiss on Arthur’s forehead before getting up and quietly leaving him in the room alone.

Once he closed the door, he looked at the mess Gilbert and Arthur had left all over the living room. Gilbert had taken the opportunity to leave while Francis had been occupied with Arthur and avoid having to clean up. Francis swore quietly. Once he got his hands on Gilbert, he would make him pay for this. Rolling his eyes, he began cleaning.

~ ~ ~

After an hour or so of cleaning, Francis had finally finished getting all the spilled beer out of the carpet. He had also formulated a plan of how to kill Gilbert once he met him again. Francis stepped back to look at the clean carpet, slightly proud of himself. Arthur was still asleep, and he doubted that he’d wake up again for a new more hours. In the meantime, Francis decided to head over to his laptop. Upon opening it, he realized that Arthur was still logged in to his Facebook account, and still had Alfred’s profile up.

Curiosity overcame him, and he took a look. It did look like Alfred was very happy where he was. He was on a road trip through the United States, according to his profile, and he was taking his new boyfriend with him. It really did seem that Alfred was getting along just fine. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered about how Arthur would have felt, after Alfred had gone out and cheated on him.

So maybe Alfred hadn’t been completely happy with Arthur; that Francis could accept. What he couldn’t accept was the fact that Alfred had thought it was okay to sleep with someone else just because of that. He should have told Arthur straight up that he wasn’t happy instead of cheating. It would have been the more adult thing to do. And now while Alfred was touring America with Kiku on his shoulder, Francis was left to help Arthur get back on his feet again.

He sighed. Thinking about this was just making him feel worse and worse. He logged Arthur out of his Facebook account and then spent a few minutes browsing the news and looking for some good recipes online. He had just bookmarked a recipe for green tea flavoured cupcakes when he heard a sound in the living room. Peering over the screen, he saw that it was Arthur stumbling around.

“Arthur,” Francis called out. “Are you okay?”

“My head is killing me” Arthur groaned in response. Francis shook his head and got up. He went over to Arthur and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder.

“Well, you did drink a little too much.” He said with a smile. Arthur shook his head.

“Way too much.” Arthur replied, “I’m never doing that again.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Francis said.

“Oh yeah, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For what I did last night. You know, doing it with you.” Arthur said shyly. Francis’ heart was racing. What was he supposed to say? No problem, he’d been wanting it for ages? But he couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t want it either, otherwise Arthur would think that Francis would never have any interest in him. It seemed like no matter what he said, it would end with him in hot water. So he just put on his most apologetic face and said the most casual thing he could think of.

“Yeah.”

“You’re a really good friend to me, and I don’t want a drunken decision to change our relationship.” Arthur said. _So it was just a drunken decision._ Francis thought. He knew that Arthur didn’t love him, but still, it hurt hearing him say that he was just a drunk fuck, and nothing more.

“Don’t worry.” Francis kept the apologetic smile plastered on his face. “It won’t.”

“Thanks.” Arthur said. “You’re a true friend.” _And that’s all I ever will be, it looks like._ Francis thought.

“You should go and lie down.” Francis said, trying not to think about what had happened just a few hours ago. “Close the curtains and lie down, that’ll help. Do you want some painkillers?”

“Sure.” Arthur said, hanging back a little. Francis could tell that he was rethinking his decision to have sex with him drunk. Francis didn’t want to bring it up. It would only make things worse. Instead, he was careful not to touch Arthur while he went to the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of painkillers. He gave them to him along with a glass of water.

“Take these and go back to sleep.” Francis said. Arthur nodded, took the glass and went back to the bedroom. Once he was gone, Francis let out a sigh. He didn’t know how much longer he could live with this. He loved Arthur. He loved Arthur with all his heart, and it pained him to know that Arthur only liked him as a friend, that Arthur saw him as the person he’d go and talk to about his relationship troubles instead of the person he was in a relationship with. And there wasn’t much of a way he could change things. Arthur wanted to stay friends. He wanted to be just friends. No matter how much Francis wanted them to be together, Arthur would just want to be friends.

He went back to his laptop. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. In the time he’d been away from the screen, he’d acquired an instant message.

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: Is Artie ok? I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks, saw that he and Alfred broke up and now I’m kinda worried.**

It was Arthur’s brother. Alistair was currently living in Scotland, and despite the fact that he and Arthur had never really got on in the past, they were much closer now. They were more likely to make light fun of each other than fight, which Francis guessed was better. He bit his lip. He knew that at the end of the day, Alistair cared about his brother a lot. He didn’t want to break the news to him that there was something wrong with Arthur. But it was his right to know.

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: Probably not. In all honesty he’s not dealing with it too well.**

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: Shit. Is there anything I can do to help?**

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: I’m not sure. I think he’s getting better, but I can’t know for sure. I’ll make sure to keep you updated on how he’s doing.**

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: Thanks. But what Alfred did was a little fucked up though.**

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: Yeah, I mean, he really hurt him.**

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: He did and I’m not going to be very happy if I see him again.**

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: I don’t think any of us will. I’m trying to get him not to think about it.**

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: That’s good. Please take care of him for me will you? I’m a little worried about him.**

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: Of course. He’s staying over with me right now so that I can keep an eye on him.**

**ALISTAIR KIRKLAND: Thank God. Please let me in on how he’s going every now and then.**

**FRANCIS BONNEFOY: Definitely.**

~ ~ ~

When Arthur finally emerged from the bedroom, his head was still pounding, but he just couldn’t sleep anymore. Sluggishly, he went over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. The apartment was quiet, and it wasn’t until he looked over at the clock that he realized that it was two in the morning. He groaned. He should have never let Gilbert talk him into drinking. Now his head was throbbing and he felt a mixture of nausea and regret. Under the influence of alcohol, he had gone ahead and slept with him. Francis and him had been best friends since they had first been sent to the same boarding school as little children. He’d been through everything with him. Love, loss and change. They’d been closer than brothers. Francis had always been the closest person to him in the world, even closer to him than Alfred at times.

There had been a time, before Alfred, when Arthur had thought he had feelings for Francis. It was strange how he measured time now. It was either Before, During, or After Alfred. Before Alfred were the days when he was younger, and freer. In those days he had nothing to worry about, and everything was alright, albeit a bit boring. And then came the days of Alfred. Those days were amazing. Every day was full of laughter, love and hope. It was like a dream. He’d enjoyed every second of it, it really had been a perfect relationship. But all good things had to come to an end, he figured. And then there came the days of After Alfred. The days where time seemed to stop and each day felt like it lasted an eternity. Those were the days of sadness and self-pity, of feeling that he wasn’t good enough and wondering just why Alfred would have cheated on him. He hated those days.

And still, he couldn’t bring himself around to hate Alfred. After all that Alfred had done to him, he still loved him a little. It was strange, and it wasn’t something that he liked, but it was something that he had to deal with.

 ~ ~ ~

As the days went by, Francis grew more and more convinced that Arthur wasn’t okay. For the most part, Arthur was almost always sad. He seemed to move around like a ghost, kind of there but not quite fully. It really felt like a part of him was missing, and no matter how much Francis tried to make him feel better, nothing really worked. Sure, Arthur would smile weakly and thank Francis for his efforts, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t Arthur

He remembered, one time, he had made a trip back to Arthur’s apartment to pick up his guitar, hoping that just maybe Arthur would find some kind of solace in music. However, Arthur hadn’t touched his guitar once in the two weeks since it had been in Francis’ apartment. Before he and Alfred broke up, Arthur would play the guitar almost every day. Francis used to joke that there was something seriously wrong with Arthur if he said that he didn’t want to play the guitar. But this was no joking matter. He was seriously worried about him.

There were other moments too, spontaneous moments when Arthur would do something a little stupid and impulsive. The time when Arthur and Gilbert had gotten drunk was not the last. Those were the times which Francis worried more, because in those times he really worried about Arthur’s safety. All the crap that Arthur did drunk would come back to haunt him one day. He’d already broken his hand once in a bar fight, and Francis didn’t want him to do anything worse.

It was another cold and rainy day outside, and Francis was busy as hell. He’d planned to have a dinner party, and invite all of his and Arthur’s friends. He hoped that having friends over in an environment which allowed for intellectual conversation, Arthur would have a chance to talk and have fun with others without having to get completely drunk. He’d taken all the precautions necessary, having called up all of his friends and told them specifically not to mention Alfred or his new boyfriend under any circumstances whatsoever.

“Arthur?” Francis called from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Arthur sat at the coffee table in the living room, computer on his lap. He had been staring at a blank word document for at least an hour, but he hadn’t been able to write a single word. At this rate, he was going to get fired if he couldn’t come up with an idea for an opinion piece soon, He sighed and closed his laptop, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

“Would you like to help me with the dinner?” Francis asked.

“Me?” Arthur asked, surprised. “You know I can’t cook.”

“All you’ll be doing is cutting things up and stirring things, I promise. It won’t be too hard.”

“Alright.” Arthur said. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can peel those potatoes.” Francis said, pointing to a pile lying on the counter. Meanwhile, he carefully cut and seasoned the beef for the main course.

“Great.” Arthur said, rolling up his sleeves and getting started.

“So how’s the article going?”

“It’s not.” Arthur said.

“Really? You still have writer’s block?” Francis asked.

“Yep.” Arthur replied. “I just can’t think of anything.”

“Well maybe the conversation at dinner will give you an idea.” Francis suggested.

“Yeah, I guess.” Arthur looked down at the potatoes.

“Maybe you could write something about writer’s block?”

“If I did that, it would just turn into pages and pages of me complaining.” Arthur said. “I could probably do it, but as sure as hell it wouldn’t be interesting.”

“Oh.” Francis said and went back to cooking.

“So what is the menu for dinner anyways?” Arthur asked.

“I have a few savory pastries I’m making as hors oeuvres, a French onion soup and salad for starters, and then a choice of beef hotpot, pork loin, potatoes au gratin, roast potatoes, grilled vegetables, rice, and some vegetables cooked in a tomato sauce. For dessert, I was going to do some meringues with cream and fresh fruit.”

“That sounds delicious.” Arthur said. Francis was a fantastic cook, and he always went over the top for little things like this. Even though he knew that nobody would mind whether the food was five star quality or whether it was something bought from the local Chinese takeout’s value menu. It was one of the things he thought was incredible about Francis. No matter what it was, Francis really always try to give it his all, and Arthur loved that about him.

“It will be.” Francis said with an air of smugness. Maybe it was the warmth of the kitchen, or the two of them being together in such a close vicinity, but Francis could tell that Arthur’s spirits had raised a little. Whether it was only temporary or whether it was stay that way, it was a good thing. While they cooked together, Arthur was laughing and smiling a little more, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because of him or if it was due to the bottle of cooking sherry they’d been sharing while cooking.

Soon the food was ready, and the guests were arriving. First was Gilbert, who came in brandishing a bottle of wine and in a cheery mood. Francis hushed him as he nudged him through the hallway. Next came Gilbert’s brother Ludwig and his boyfriend Felancio, and after that came Francis’ friend Antonio and Felancio’s brother Lovino. Although they had been close for years, Francis had decided against inviting Alfred’s brother Matthew. Arthur had always seemed to get on well, and took a liking to him, but as Matthew was Alfred’s twin, the two did look very alike. It wasn’t uncommon for Arthur to get the two mixed up, and the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to think that his cheating ex-boyfriend had shown up at their dinner party. Thankfully, Matthew had understood the situation.

“So who’s ready to party?” Gilbert said.

“We aren’t here to ‘party’, Gilbert.” Francis said and rolled his eyes. “This is supposed to be a sophisticated dinner party.”

“Well that’s no fun.” Gilbert said. Francis shushed him as he led everyone into the dining room.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes, I just need to finish a few things up.” Francis said as he headed back to the kitchen. “Will you take care of the guests, Arthur?” Arthur nodded and watched as Francis left.

“So how are you doing?” Ludwig asked carefully.

“I’m alright, I guess.” Arthur said. He could see how this evening was going to go ahead. He would spend the entire night with everyone else awkwardly dancing around the topic of Alfred. Not exactly a fun night.

“That’s good then.” Ludwig said. “I’m sure that eventually you’ll get back on track.” He smiled kindly and placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur couldn’t help but smile back a little. It was clear that the people here cared about him. Sure they would awkwardly avoid certain topics, but that was only because they cared about him.

The dinner party turned out to be a lot more fun than he’d expected. Everyone was talking and laughing a little to loudly and enjoying Francis’ good food.

“So you actually helped make this, Arthur?” Lovino asked, feignins surprise. “And you didn’t burn anything?”

“Nope.” Arthur replied with a smile.

“It’s because Francis was there right?” Gilbert interjected. “Mr. Professional chef was there to tell you what to do.”

“Oh yes. I’d be lost without him.”

“I’ve had your cooking before and I can confirm that.” Francis said and they all burst out with laughter. As the night went on, Arthur felt better than he had in days. Maybe it was the fact the all his friends were around him, or maybe it was the fact that he was having fun that didn’t involve copious amounts of alcohol without Alfred. It stood as proof that he could be happy without Alfred, and he very much liked that.

Francis had noticed the change in Arthur’s mood. He’d see that tonight, his smile was more natural, his eyes were getting that gleam in them again that Francis knew and loved. It made him so happy, that Arthur was getting back on track. Things were starting to work themselves out. Eventually everything would be back to the way it was supposed to be. Or at least he thought so.

It was after dinner, and Felancio was lazily scrolling through Facebook.

“Oh!” He said.

“What?” Everyone turned to look at him.

“You’ll never guess who just got engaged.”

“Who?” Antonio asked.

“Alfred.” Felancio replied. Francis quickly turned to Arthur and watched as his face fell. This was why he had specifically said that nobody should mention Alfred. Arthur was really starting to make progress recovering, and this could ruin that.

“When?” Arthur demanded, getting up to see Felancio’s phone.

“Just now. He just posted a photo.” And sure enough, there was a photograph of Alfred and his new fiancé standing in front of a sunset. As Arthur stared at the picture, Felancio finally realized that he wasn’t supposed to be talking about Alfred. “But like, you could do a lot better than him, so don’t worry about it.” He tried to cover up his mistake. The room nodded in agreement.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Arthur said, heading out dining room door.

“Where are you going?” Francis called after him.

“I just – I just finally have an idea for an article and want to write it down before I forget it.” Arthur said as he left, his voice thick with tears that were beginning to fall.

* * *

**Arthur’s Corner**  
May 3  
  


**Breakups Suck**

As you can probably tell from the title. I am no longer in a relationship. Now for some people that might mean a sense of freedom, but for others, it’s hell. In this day and age it’s hard to stay away from your ex, with social media you can always see what they’re doing, where they’re going and who they’re with. And then you find out that they move on pretty quick, and you’re staring at your screen alone with your fifth drink in your hand wondering why life hates you.

My new ex cheated on me while we were together, and now whenever I look at Facebook, all I see are pictures of him and him new fiancé (yes, fiancé. The two are engaged, a month and a half after we broke up.) It’s frustrating and depressing as hell. There’s a certain level of anger that you feel when someone you broke up with is happy. Maybe you think deep down that they deserve to be unhappy after ending a relationship, as if they’ll somehow magically realize that they’re better off with you.

But we all know that’s not going to happen.

So you’re probably expecting me to put a positive spin on this, but in all honesty, I really can’t. When you break up with someone you do get stuck in this moment where you feel shitty as hell, and that’s exactly where I am now. The only positive advice I can give you is to try not to drink your sorrows away too much. So far all that’s done is probably damaged my relationship with my current roommate considerably

How about this? How about you guys send me in your stories, ones about past or current breakups, and I’ll read through them all and talk about some of them. Maybe I can’t find an instant solution to this problem but at least we can all share the pain, can’t we?

Until next time,

Arthur Kirkland


	5. Chapter 5

Francis had barely slept last night. All he could hear through the walls was the sound of Arthur weeping loudly.

Arthur had spent the whole night sitting in front of his computer screen, drinking and sobbing. He’d been looking at all the pictures that he had taken with Alfred back when they were together. It hurt to see how happy they were together.

“Why?” He whispered as he ran a finger across Alfred’s smiling face. “Why did you do it? Weren’t you happy enough with me?” Arthur had been happy, even if Alfred might not have been. Arthur had been happier than he had in years. He really had thought that life with Alfred would be perfect, but it seemed that Alfred had other ideas. Apparently, everyone else had already suspected it. Everyone apart from Arthur had known better. Arthur was the only one who had to find out the hard way.

~ ~ ~

_Arthur had just gotten home after interviewing a few old veterans for an article he was working on. He’d missed the train, and had to wait for half an hour to catch the next one, only to get soaked by the rain while walking from the station to his apartment. He was looking forwards to a hot shower, a beer and some time spent snuggling with Alfred._

_“I’m home!” He called as he unlocked the door. Nobody responded. That was strange. “Alfred?” He called again. No response. He shook it off. Alfred was probably listening to music too loudly again. Nothing to worry about, he assured himself._

_But then when he got closer, he heard them. Soft voices, two of them. Whispering and giggling and moaning. One of them, he knew, was Alfred’s, but he had no clue who the other voice belonged to. Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. Was Alfred… was he in there with someone else? No, that couldn’t be true. There had to be some kind of an explanation. Maybe Alfred had invited a friend over to get massages or something. There had to be another reason. He refused to believe that Alfred would do anything that would jeopardize their relationship._

_He grabbed the door handle, and with a deep breath, flung open the door._

_He gasped._

_In front of him was Alfred, on the bed and half dressed. In his arms was a small Japanese man._

_“Arthur!” Alfred said, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early.” Arthur couldn’t respond. He was stunned into silence._

_“Look, Arthur, I wasn’t expecting you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you –“_

_“Tell me what?” When Arthur finally spoke, his voice shook. He was angry. Angry at the fact that he had to wait until this exact minute to find out that Alfred had been cheating on him. Angry that Alfred had done this to him. But also he was angry at himself for not seeing this coming. How could he not have known? How could he not have figured out what Alfred was doing to him?_

_“It’s hard to explain.” Alfred gulped nervously. “I’m sorry. It’s just that ever since I met Kiku, things have been better for me. I’ve been happier, healthier, the…” Alfred trailed off. Arthur know what he’d meant to stay. The sex was better. He felt a pain in his heart that seemed to spread out all over his chest. He hadn’t been good enough for him. He hadn’t been good enough for Alfred, and that made him feel absolutely awful._

_“How long has this been going on?” Arthur demanded._

_“About seven months.” Alfred replied. Seven months. Seven whole months. Alfred had been lying to him for more than half a year. Arthur didn’t even know what to feel anymore._

_“Get out.”_

_“What?”_

_“Just get out!” Arthur yelled, his voice thick with tears. “Please, just leave!”_

Alfred had moved out later that week, off to do his tour of the United States with his new boyfriend. He’d gone and he’d left Arthur all alone.

~ ~ ~

Francis was worried. He was really worried. He had been forced to leave the house early that day to help prepare for a special brunch event at the café. That meant that he hadn’t been able to check up on Arthur as much as he usually would, and he hadn’t been able to find anybody else who would watch over him. The thing that had sent him into haywire was the Facebook post Arthur had made while Francis was at work. He had found it while scrolling through absentmindedly on his break.

**ARTHUR KIRKLAND  
 **   I just don’t know what the point in life is any more.

Francis had tried messaging him, he’d tried calling him, and all with no avail. Arthur wasn’t responding, and that made Francis worried. The Arthur he knew wouldn’t hurt himself, but he’d waved goodbye to the Arthur he knew the minute he broke up with Alfred.

Right now, Arthur was volatile. He was at a dangerous point where something could go really wrong and then he would end up hurting himself.

Francis had tried calling up everyone else he knew, but they were all either busy or unreachable. Nobody could check on Arthur for him. And so, filled with worry, his shift passed slowly. He was careless and barely paid attention to the work at hand. He burnt countless things, including his own fingers. The head chef finally sent him home after he broke a plate on his foot.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you Bonnefoy, but go home and rest.” He told Francis, practically shoving him out the door.

Somehow, Francis had managed to drive home without incident. Once he’d finally arrived, he rushed into his apartment.

“Arthur?” He called out. He heard a soft groan in response.

“Arthur?” He called out again. This time his voice more filled with worry. This time there was no response. Where the hell was he? He looked all over the house, but hadn’t seen a single sign of the man.

“Arthur where are you?” After searching everywhere he could think of for the third time, Francis noticed that the bathroom door was locked. He pressed his ear against the wood, but he heard nothing on the other side.

“Arthur, are you in there?” No response.

“Arthur, can you hear me?” Still no response.

“Arthur. I’m going to bust the door open okay?” No sound.

So he went to go get the emergency key he kept for the bathroom and opened the door. he couldn’t contain his shock at the sight that was before him. Arthur lay, slumped against the toilet, unconscious. He wasn’t bleeding anywhere, but there were several empty medicine bottles lying on the floor.

_He couldn’t have._ Was the first thought that came into my mind. Despite seeing the physical evidence in front of him, some part of him still wanted to believe that this was a happy accident. That Arthur hadn’t really been driven this far by the end of his relationship with Alfred. That Arthur wasn’t that bad.

Fortunately, the more practical side of Francis’ brain took over for just enough time. He knew that he needed to call an ambulance. Arthur was still breathing, thankfully. The quicker an ambulance came, the quicker they could take care of Arthur.

He picked up his phone and punched in 999.

“Hello, I need an ambulance.” Francis said quickly.

“And what is the nature of your emergency?” The responder replied, their voice calm and collected.

“My friend,” Francis said. Why was he panting? Why did his voice sound so ragged? “He… He took a whole load of pills and – and I think he tried to commit suicide.”

“Okay, okay. Now would you mind telling me your address?” Francis told the woman where he lived, and then kept on the phone while he was waiting for the ambulance arrived, listening carefully to the instructions she gave him about what position to put Arthur un and how to check his pulse.

Fifteen minutes later, the ambulance arrived and Francis let out a sigh of relief. He had never been a very religious person, but he still muttered a prayer under his breath. Everything had to be okay. It had to be.

~ ~ ~

The hospital halls were all a plain sterile white. Francis shivered. He hated hospitals, hated them with a passion. They smelled like disinfectant and he hated it. But of course, he was going to be there for Arthur. He paced in front of the hospital room, waiting patiently for the doctors to come out and tell him what was going on.

Arthur had to be okay. He had to be. There was no way that anything could happen to him, it just couldn’t be.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, it could have been days for all he knew. It certainly felt that way. Eventually, a doctor holding a clipboard appeared. Francis’ heart raced.

“How is he?” He demanded.

“He’ll be alright.” The doctor replied, looking down at his clipboard. “We pumped his stomach, so he should be okay when he wakes up. Just tell him to take it easy for a few days, and I highly recommend that you consult a psychiatrist for him. Has anything like this ever happened before?”

“No, never.” Francis said. “I didn’t think he’d ever do this.”

The doctor smiled sympathetically and put his hand on Francis’ shoulder. “Sometimes it can be hard to read the signs.”

“It’s just that things have been so hard for him after his boyfriend left. I mean, I did my best to try and help him, but I guess it just wasn’t enough.” Francis felt tears welling in his eyes. He had tried, he really had. And now he felt terrible for not being able to take care of Arthur properly. What kind of a friend was he, if he let his best friend in the world die?

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for these kinds of things.” The doctor said kindly. “I’m sure that you did the best that you could to help him. It’s just that the things he’s going through right now are very difficult to deal with. It isn’t your fault.”

“Thank you.” Francis said, with a weak smile on his face. “When can I see him?”

“As soon as he wakes up.” The doctor said, and walked down the hall

~ ~ ~

Arthur awoke and groaned. Everything hurt. His stomach ached worse than anything he had ever experienced before, and his throat was burning. It took a few moments for his vision to clear, but when it did, he saw a familiar figure in a chair next to him.

“Francis?” He said, his voice scratchy due to how dry his throat was.

“Arthur,” Francis let out a sigh of relief. “You’re alright.”

“I guess.” Arthur said. “I still feel like shit though.” He rubbed his burning throat.

“Here, let me get you some water.” Francis got up and walked over to a nearby pitcher. He poured out a glass of water and waited for Arthur to get sit upright before handing it to him.

“Thanks.” He said and drank deeply. “That feels better now.”

Francis nodded and looked at Arthur. He didn’t know whether it was the electric glow of the hospital’s lights, or the fact that the contents of Arthur’s stomach had recently been removed, but he looked a lot paler and weaker than usual. It was sad to look at. He didn’t like seeing Arthur like this at all, he just looked so fragile, so damn breakable. Francis bit his lip.

“You really worried me, you know.” He said.

“I did?” Arthur attempted a weak smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” Francis asked.

Arthur looked away. “It was just _hard._ You know, seeing Alfred like that. It made me feel like I wasn’t worth his love. And now he’s happy and about to get married and I’m left here all alone.”

“Look, Arthur – “

“I thought he was the one, Francis. I really really did. He meant the world to me. I’d even planned how I was going to propose to him. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with him, Francis. But no, I just wasn’t enough for him.” Arthur’s voice was thick with tears.

“He never deserved you.” Francis said, reaching to place a hand over Arthur’s. It felt strangely cold and clammy.

“Oh that’s what everyone said.” Arthur said. “That’s the most generic thing people can think of after a breakup. You don’t understand, Francis. He made me feel amazing. He made me feel so alive. I never felt anything like that with any guy I’ve been with. It was love. I loved him, hell I’m pretty sure that I still do, but now I’m never going to be with him again. I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life alone and miserable.”

“That’s not true.” Francis said. “How do you know that you’re going to spend the rest of your life alone?”

“Well who would want to be with me?” Arthur said. “A miserable little git like me?”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Oh please, you know that it’s true.”

“It isn’t Arthur. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Francis tightened his grip on Arthur’s hand. “You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re good-looking and you’re kind too. You have a lot of good things going for you. I’m sure you’ll find love again one day.”

“Thanks Francis.” Arthur said, even though he wasn’t truly convinced. “I don’t know what I’d do without you as a friend.”

“Yeah.” Francis said. “A friend.”

Conversation between them continued awkwardly. It seemed that neither really knew what to say to each other. What could be said anyways? It was hard to think of the right words to say at the time, so Francis just settled on being able to stay by Arthur’s side. He held his hand and hoped for the best.

~ ~ ~

Arthur had to stay at the hospital for another day, Francis was told, for observation. And then the doctor had scheduled him an appointment with a psychiatrist a week afterwards. It was going to be a busy couple of weeks for Arthur, who had agreed to move in with Francis permanently. Or at least until Francis felt like Arthur would be safe living on his own again.

When Francis finally got home, he was physically and emotionally exhausted. He hadn’t really wanted to go home, but he needed a shower and some sleep badly. On the way home, he had barely managed to stay awake at the wheel.

Once he opened the door to the apartment, he realized that it felt cold inside. A lot colder than usual. He shrugged it off and went to make himself a cup of coffee. The answering machine was nearby. It looked like he had a hell of a lot of messaged. After making his coffee, he took a sip and hit play.

“Arthur?” One message was from Gilbert “Are you alright? Man, I saw your post and I just thought that I would check if you were okay.”

“Francis, I’m just calling to check that Arthur’s okay.” This one was from Ludwig. “Feli and I were pretty worried about him, so I just thought that we should call and see how he is. Please call back when you can.”

“Uh, Arthur…” There was a message from Matthew. “You aren’t answering your cellphone and I just wanted to check that you were okay after finding out what happened with my brother. Call back when you can.”

And then there was a frustrated message from Alistair. “Laddie! Are you alright? You haven’t been answering your phone or replying to any messages. Did something happen. You’re worrying me.”

Francis sighed. He didn’t want to deal with this all right now. He knew that all these people were probably worried about Arthur, especially Alistair, but Francis just didn’t have the energy to do anything right now.

He decided to call everyone back, eventually. Right now, more than anything, he wanted a half an hour’s nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short!


	6. Chapter 6

Soon enough, Francis got around to replying to all of the messages people had sent. For most of them, he had just given them a generic reply along the lines of "he's alright" as per Arthur's instructions. The only people who he really wanted to know about this were his family.

"Yes, he's coming back from the hospital today." Francis said, on the phone to Arthur's eldest brother Alistair.

"How is he?" He asked.

"Probably pretty bed." Francis said, the tiredness he felt was audible in his voice. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since last night. He seems a little better, but I have no idea what's going on in his head. And besides, I'm still waiting to hear what the doctor's saying about him."

"I'll see if I can come over soon." Alistair said. "If I can get some time off from work, I'll be able to fly over there by this weekend."

"That would be great, if you could." Francis said, a small smile rising to his lips. "I could use the help."

"No problem." Alistair replied. "It'll be good for Arthur, right? And that's all that matters to me."

Francis said goodbye and hung up the phone, before lying down on the couch and letting out a sigh. All this worry was exhausting him. He had barely slept the past night either. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stop thinking about how close he could have come to losing Arthur. It was frightening to think that Arthur had almost lost his life, that Arthur had almost slipped away from him before he got a chance to let him know how he really felt.

He had promised himself that one day, he would tell Arthur that he loved him. He'd planned a little romantic scenario in his head, with candles and rose petals and lots of good wine. However recent events made that look like it wasn't going to happen. He wished from the depths of his soul that he would be able to hold Arthur in his arms and just hug him. It wasn't a reaction that made much sense, but at this point he didn’t care anymore if Arthur loved him back or not. He just wanted to give him love, to shower him with affection in the hope that it would make Arthur feel as though he could be loved again. But Arthur was far away from him and the comforts of his apartment. He was stuck in a sterile hospital room with cold white walls and a strong smell of disinfectant.

_He's coming home today._ Francis told himself. _Soon you can pick him up from the hospital and shower him with as much affection and love as you can manage. Just hold out for a little longer._ The doctor had said that Arthur would be able to be discharged at about three in the afternoon, and right now it was barely noon. He had three hours to kill, and he needed to think of something better to do than to spend it all laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

He got up and went to go make himself a cup of coffee, thinking that maybe the caffeine would give his brain enough of a boost to think of something to do. When he opened the cupboard and looked for the coffee, he also noticed that he was almost all out of tea. He was going to have to go to the grocery store and buy some more tea. Arthur lived on the stuff and there was no way he was going to let it run out while he was in a condition where he needed as many creature comforts as possible. And if he was buying tea, he thought to himself, why not go all the way and buy him something nice instead of the usual cheap teabags Arthur lived off of. He was sure that he'd appreciate it if Francis got him some nice teas. And while he was at it, Francis figured, why not just cook him a traditional British meal? As much as everyone liked to make fun of Arthur's cooking abilities, there was no denying the fact that British food was Arthur's go-to comfort food. Now he wasn't expecting him to be magically cured after a plate of fish and chips, but he hoped that it would at least bring a smile to his face.

Francis closed the cupboard and grabbed his jacket. He needed to do some shopping before he went to pick Arthur up if he was going to make him the best meal he could. Once he got into his car, he drove straight past the grocery store, opting for the more pricey but fresher farmer's market to buy his ingredients. As he walked through the stalls, he looked around, wondering what the hell would be a good dish for Arthur. 

In the end, he had decided on Beef Wellington with some simple roasted potatoes and vegetables. He could make it with his eyes closed, but he wasn't trying ro pick something difficult or fancy. He wanted to pick something that would leave Arthur licking his plate. He also bought some Earl Grey tea, Arthur's favourite. He was sure he'd love it.

At home, he busied himself preparing the pastry for dinner while he waited until it was time to pick Arthur up. Alistair called and confirmed that he would be able to come by and visit Arthur by Monday, and that he would convince his other brothers to do the same. Francis relaxed as he kneaded dough. Things would get better for Arthur once his brothers arrived. Although they had never gotten along very well in the past, in times of need they had usually been there for each other. He hoped that Arthur's brothers would be able to help him somewhat.

Time dragged on until it was finally a quarter to three. Francis looked at the clock and decided that it was time to set off to the hospital. The drive there felt like it was taking hours. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the traffic moved too slowly and all he could think about was Arthur lying alone in his hospital room. How was he holding up? The last time he'd seen his love interest, he had just got his stomach pumped and had looked physically ill. He wasn't exactly expecting him to be the picture of health when he returned. But it wasn't his physical health that worried Francis. He was much more concerned about where Arthur was mentally at the moment. He had refused to talk too much about what had led him to attempt suicide, and Francis had not been willing to push the subject very far, but he still worried. He worried about what was going on in Arthur’s mind, whether he was getting better or worse. It was hard to tell with Arthur. He had always been the kind of person who hid his emotions from others, and Francis doubted that this was going to br an exception. He now knew that the pain that he had seen Arthur go through had been nothing but a fraction of what he had been feeling. That thought terrified him more than anything. The idea that Arthur could be in immeasurable pain, and that Francis could do nothing to help him. He couldn’t bear the thought of the Arthur he loved so much being on the verge of death and being absolutely helpless to do anything about it.

As he neared the hospital, Francis forced himself to push the thought out of his mind. _You're pysching yourself out._ He told himself. _Arthur needs you to be there to support him. You can't go freaking out about what might happen. You need to focus on being there for him and supporting him._ He was still nervous as he turned into the parking lot, but it was manageable. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, telling himself that Arthur was going to be okay as he got out of the car and headed indoors.

"I'm here for Arthur Kirkland." He told thr receptionist. "I'm supposed to be taking him home."

"Kirkland..." The woman muttered to herself as she typed on her computer. "He's in room 212. Hold on." She then searched on her desk for a fee moments before she pulled out a small sheaf of papers. "These are discharge forms. Please fill them out and bring them back on your way out, Mr -"

"Bonnefoy." Francis smiled. "Thank you very much." He took the papers and headed to Arthur's room.

~~

Arthur sat up in his bed. It was uncomfortable. The whole hospital was uncomfortable. Cold, white and impersonal, he hated it. And he hated the looks all the doctors and nurses gave him, just because they _knew_ why he was here. They knew what had brought him here, and maybe they felt bad for him, or maybe they were just pretending. Either way, Arthur was already growing tired of it. He was tired of the way they spoke to him, slowly and softly as if he were a child, being careful to avoid certain topics or words that they thought would be "triggering".

Bullshit. That's what it was.

The whole thing was bullshit and he was sick and tired of this hospital trip. Hell, he was sick and tired of life in general. He wanted Francis to hurry up and get him, at least then he could go back to his comfortable bed and sleep, hopefully for eternity.

Francis opened the door to find that Arthur didn't look much different from yesterday. Perhaps a little less pale, but other than that, there were no physical improvements. He only hoped that the same couldn't be said about his mental health.

"How are you doing?" He asked.

"Tired." Arthur responded. "Couldn’t fucking sleep all night." Francis smiled weakly.

"Well once you get home you can sleep all you want."

"I'm looking forwards to it." Arthur replied. 

"Are you ready to go?" Francis asked.

"Yeah." Arthur said. "But the doctor wanted to talk to you before we left. He said he'll be here soon." Francis nodded.

"Okay. In the meantime, you need to help me fill out these forms, okay?" Francis held up the discharge forms. Arthur nodded and provided all the information he needed. As he filled in the boxes, Francis's hand hovered momentarily above the box labeled "relationship to patient". Somehow he didn’t think "unrequited lover" was going to cut it. Instead he scrawled down "close personal friend" and left it at that. 

A few minutes after they had finished their paperwork, the doctor finally arrived. "Sorry I'm late." He said. "I got caught up with another patient."

"That's okay." Francis said.

"Anyways I just wanted to have a quick word with you before you two leave, since you're going to be the one taking care of him. Is it okay if we talk in the hallway?" He asked.

"Sure." Francis said, getting up and leaving Arthur's side. "I'll be back in a minute." He whispered to Arthur before letting the doctor lead him out the door.

"Sorry about this. I just think that Arthur would feel weird if we were talking about all this right in front of him."

"Really, it's no problem. What do you want to talk about?" Francis asked.

"Well you see, I can't really say anything until he's officially diagnosed, but to me I can see a few signs of depression in his behaviour."

"Depression?" Francis was shocked. He knew that it would be something like this, but still, it was shocking to hear the words coming out of the mouth of a medical professional. Arthur had depression. This wasn't just a bunk that could be cured with a little tender loving care, Arthur was actually suffering from a mental illness.

"Yes. And the reason that I'm telling you this right now is that I think it's best if you're informed about this as soon as possible. It's very noble of you to say that you'll take care of him, but that's not an easy job." He handed Francis several brightly-colored pamphlets. "I know that these aren't very extensive but they'll give you a general idea about how his behaviour might change from now and how it can go on to change with therapy."

"Thank you" Francis said and accepted the papers.

"And just remember to take good care of him. If you notice being around something is making him feel worse, like anything that can trigger certain memories or feelings, take it away."

"Alright."

"And most importantly take care of yourself too." The doctor said. "It can be pretty emotionally taxing taking care of people. Make sure that you don't burn yourself out in the process. Don't forget to call me if you have any questions, and I'll do my best to help."

"Thank you, doctor." Francis said with a smile. He looked down at the pile of pamphlets in his hand, wondering just what kind of changes he was going to have to cope with. He was nervous, he was worried, he was scared. Scared about what could happen to the man he loved so much.

Francis returned to find that Arthur had finished the paperwork, and a few kind nurses had helped him get ready to leave. He smiled at them and thanked them before wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulder.

"Shall we go, then?"

"Let's go." The conversation was short. Nothing more needed to be said as they made their way out of the room, and dropped the paperwork off at the receptionist's desk before they got into the car and set off. 

At first, they drove in silence. Arthur stared blankly out of the window while Francis tried to focus on the road. There wasn't even the sound of the radio in the background to fill up the empty space.

"So Arthur," Francis began. "The doctor said he'd referred you to a physciatrist to get a better diagnosis?"

Arthur nodded. "I have an appointment with her next Thursday." He said. 

"Well I hope it works out for the best." Francis said. Arthur gave a noncommittal grunt and turned to stare out of the window. They continued to drive in awkward silence.

"Oh yes, and your brother called."

"Which one?"

"Alistair." Francis said. "He's coming to visit for a while."

"Why?"

"I guess he's worried about you. Either way, maybe having some family over will be good for you. A nice change." Another grunt from Arthur. "And he said that he'll try to get your other brothers to come over too. Won't that be nice?"

"I guess." Arthur replied.

"Anyways, he lands on Monday. Maybe you can come with me to pick him up from the airport."

"Hmm." Arthur went back to looking at the window. _He's tired._ Francis thought to himself. _He's probably just worn out, both physically and emotionally right now. Give him some space. Leave him to himself for a while. He'll look better once he's rested up a little._

When they got to Francis's apartment, Francis had barely opened the door before Arthur headed in, going straight to his bedroom, muttering something about being tired and having a headache. Francis watched him leave, sad to see Arthur like this. He missed the Arthur that lived before Alfred had come into his life. The Arthur who would stay up all night drinking, laughing and writing music. The Arthur who was spontaneous, energetic and the life of the party. That Arthur almost always had a smile on his face, would always be laughing and cheering. He wished more than anything that that Arthur would come back.

~~~

No more time to waste on wishing, now he needed to work on making Arthur the best meal he possibly could. He got out the beef he had bought earlier and prepared it before putting it in the oven to roast. He carefully chopped mushrooms as finely as he could while he listened to the soft sounds of Arthur's snores. He fired the mushrooms and added wine before preparing the beef to put into the pastry. He hummed to himself as he rolled out the pastry. Cooking had always been relaxing for him, and it did wonders to ease his worries about Arthur. If this worked, maybe tomorrow he would give a hand at trying to make Arthur's terrible scones. He smiled to himself as he finished wrapping the beef in pastry, slathered on the mushroom sauce and put it in the oven to cook again. He then quickly prepared some potatoes and vegetables and threw them into the oven too.

Once everything had gone into the oven, Francis helped himself to a glass of the already open bottle of wine and sat down, pulling out the pamphlets the doctor had given him.

He opened one titled "Depression and You." and began counting down the list of symptoms, checking off what Arthur seemed to have and what he didn’t have. It looked bleak. Having five from the list of nine fit the criteria, and Arthur has seven. He sighed and went to the next one. This one had pretty much the same information, as did all the others. He put them down on the coffee table, and finished his glass of wine. From how it looked, things would only get harder.

~~~

Once the dinner was done, Francis took it out of the oven carefully. It smelled delicious. He'd even made some gravy to go alongside it even though he himself couldn’t stand the stuff. It smelled delicious, and he just knew Arthur would love it.

"Arthur?" He opened the door to his bedroom to find Arthur curled up in a bundle of blankets. "Come and have some dinner."

"I'm not hungry." Arthur replied. Francis bit his lip. He hadn’t slaved away for hours just so that Arthur wouldn't eat anything. And besides, he doubted that he'd had much else to eat today anyways.

"Come on, eat something at least."

"I'm fine, you go on and eat." Arthur said.

"Arthur please, I can tell that you haven't had much to eat today. Have something at least." Francis pleaded. 

Silence. For a few moments, Arthur was thinking.

"Fine." He grumbled. "I'll be there in a couple minutes." Francis smiled a small smile, slightly relieved. So things from now on might be harder, but they weren't impossible. And that was enough for Francis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this was so late! Pls like and leave comments!!


	7. Chapter 7

Francis had set the table nicely, with a tablecloth and fancy napkins and everything. He then carefully laid out the food prettily on the two plates. Once he had finished, he smiled. The meal looked beautiful, although he didn’t particularly agree with the idea of putting beef in pastry. Arthur would like it and that was all that was important.

“Arthur?” Francis called out. “Come and have dinner.” A few moments later, Arthur appeared. If Francis could pick one word to describe the way Arthur looked, he wouldn’t use depressed. Arthur didn’t look _sad_ , he just looked tired. He looked so very tired. Regardless, Francis smiled. He’d read in one of the pamphlets that drawing unnecessary attention to Arthur’s symptoms was a bad idea.

“What’s for dinner?” Arthur asked.

“Beef Wellington.” Francis replied. “I thought you might like something British.” He led Arthur to the dining room, where everything was laid out the way it would be at an expensive restaurant. He knew that he was probably asking too much for Arthur to be over the moon at the sight Francis’ hard work, but he had expected at least a smile. There was nothing. No change at all in facial expression. He still looked tired and maybe a little grumpy.

“Thanks.” Arthur said. “You didn’t have to put so much effort into it, you know.”

“Oh this is nothing.” Francis said. “I just thought that you might like something nice after all that hospital food.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Arthur replied. Usually at this point, Francis would have made a quick comment about how Arthur’s palate was so bad that he wouldn’t know the difference anyways, but their usual way of teasing and jibing at each other didn’t exactly seem right at the moment. “But anyways thanks for doing this.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Francis sat down. “Please, dig in.” Arthur nodded and began eating, slowly picking at his food. Francis bit his lip, he had been so sure that Arthur would like the food. He was positive that Arthur wouldn’t have anything to complain about, yet he knew that Arthur was most likely just picking at it because he’d lost his appetite. But he hated the thought that something like that would happen. Even though he knew it was true, he hated the idea that Arthur’s new depression would find a way to weave itself into as many parts of his life as possible.

The two ate dinner in near silence. Any time that Francis tried to talk to Arthur, he would reply with short, sometimes one word answer. And soon Francis was running out of topics to talk about. The cloud of what had happened before the hospital still hung over them, and even after talking to Arthur and the doctor at the hospital, Francis wasn’t sure how to go on without talking about it. How was he supposed to carry on, knowing what Arthur had done and the reason behind it.

He didn’t _want_ to think about it. He wished that he could go without the thought constantly being on his mind that Arthur had wanted to die and maybe still did. How the hell was he supposed to deal with it? He couldn’t just stand by idly and watch as the man he loved was slowly consumed by mental illness, but on the other hand, he was powerless to stop it. He couldn’t rewrite what was going on in Arthur’s brain. He couldn’t fix him, as much as he wished that he could. And the worst thing was that the pain he felt when he looked at Arthur was only a small fraction of what Arthur was suffering with right now.

Dinner finished quietly and without event. Once Arthur finished he got up and went to put his dishes in the sink.

“Don’t worry about it.” Francis said, jumping out of his seat. “I’ll clean up.”

“No, it’s fine.” Arthur said. “I can do it.”

“No, really. I insist. You go and rest. I’ll take care of it.” Francis said. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t likely that Arthur would do something to hurt himself when Francis was right there, but he still didn’t want to take the risk. He had called his boss earlier and asked for a few days off, stating personal reasons. That was the best he could do, but he felt like a few days wasn’t enough. The idea that soon he’d have to leave Arthur alone again worried him. Sure, he could always get Gilbert or someone to watch over him, but that just didn’t feel right with him. _He_ wanted to be the one taking care of Arthur, because he’d known him longer than anyone else. He knew him better than anyone else, or at least that’s what he had thought.

He wanted to bring Arthur back to the person Francis had always known. He wanted to see Arthur’s smile and the beautiful glint in his emerald eyes again. He wanted to hear his adorable laugh and feel the warmth of his personality that had been missing for so long. And he had no idea how to do that, no idea if it was even possible to bring things back to the warm summers of before Arthur met Alfred. He would have to try, though. He would have to try. There was no way that he could just leave things as they were. Whether or not he could make a change, he was going to have to do his damn best.

And so, after sending Arthur to bed, he washed up and then sat down in front of the television with a glass of wine. As he swirled the wine in his glass, he thought about the future. He thought about how things could get better, or how things could get worse. He didn’t want to think about how things could get worse. If Arthur got any worse, Francis wasn’t sure what he would do any more. And the worst thing was that this was just the start. This was just the beginning. The most terrifying thing was that this would be something that Arthur could struggle with for his entire life. Every single day of his life Arthur could be fighting against the urge to take himself from the urge and Francis couldn’t do anything but watch. He hated it. He hated this illness, he hated how powerless it made him. He hated everything. He hated everything apart from Arthur.


End file.
